


Wicked Misery

by DaveighMustaine



Category: Dorothy (Band), Halestorm
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Crushes, Drinking, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, Drunken Shenanigans, F/F, Female Friendship, Lust, Sexual Tension, Unrequited Lust, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26933857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaveighMustaine/pseuds/DaveighMustaine
Summary: Dorothy Martin reflects on a wild night with Lzzy Hale.Written on 1/28/2020. Reposting on here due to the sketchiness of Wattpad. Also reposting on Lzzy Hale's birthday! Happy birthday, Lzzy! :)
Relationships: Lzzy Hale/Dorothy Martin
Kudos: 3





	Wicked Misery

I remember her lips against mine, a hint of whiskey on her breath as we tore the town apart that night. We had only just met but I instantly knew that that we were twin souls destined to find each other.

The night was glowing in neon as we raided the strip together and ran all over town. I watched her…her poise, her confidence, her laugh. Her long auburn hair trailing in waves along the fair skin of her body that seemed to glow in the streetlights.

And she would look at me with those amber eyes daring me to come closer, daring me to let loose, daring me to take it a step further. And I was hers from that moment on…wrapped in her embrace, lost in her kiss, and a slave to her love.

But she would never be mine. She was a free spirit who belonged to no one. So unattainable, so untamable, it just made me want her more. And I knew I’d better get in line.

I’d always be hers, but she’d never be mine.

So I pretended to be okay with it. Being near her would be enough, I told myself. I almost believed myself.

But I yearned for her, I craved her, I longed for her…even when she was near.

She influenced me…my writing got deeper, my singing more soulful, and my confidence through the roof…except around her. With her I was a little girl just wishing she’d look at me. Pay me attention. Give me love like no other.

And then she’d say my name…the way her lips moved when she’d whisper in that raspy voice…”Dorothy.”

I’d always be hers, but she’d never be mine.


End file.
